A Purrfect Christmas
by INeedCoffeeArghhh
Summary: 'Twas the night before Christmas, and there Pip Pirrup sat, eyes full of glistening sorrow, talking to a red-eyed cat. Meow. (Festive ONE-SHOT)


_ A/N: Hello peeps. Just rummaging through my files and found a Christmas story, so I decided to wrap it up in fluff and throw it at you. _

_I must have written this in November. I got this idea from one of my stories (where Craig is talking to a curiously responsive cat,) and thought the idea would be cute in a one-shot with Pip. I've changed it and expanded and stuff though, obviously._

_So here it is. It's only short but heyy, eat a mince pie and you won't care._

_Disclaimer: I don't own South Park? I can't even have it as a Christmas present? No? Fine..._

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Pip wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. He pulled his knees into his chest and huddled inside his coat. It was Christmas Eve and he was sat alone, on a park bench, in the black of the night. Tears had frozen onto his face from his flood of emotion. He'd needed to get out of the house for a while, away from his adopted parents. They were great - really they were - but they just didn't understand him. No one understood him.

That wasn't true and he knew it. It just felt like that sometimes.

He let out another choked sob, chewing on the tassels of his scarf - a habit he'd picked up through stress over the years.

A rustling came from the bushes behind him. He whipped his head around as two snow-white birds took off into the night. They'd been startled by something, and had flown together, never parting (and no, they weren't turtle doves).

Pip looked around to see what had caused the startling, but there was nothing there. He dropped his legs to the floor, just in case he needed to make a quick getaway. He saw that he was all alone though, and he went back to feeling sorry for himself, because he didn't know what else he could do. Go home? Celebrate Christmas? Maybe soon, but he needed a little longer...

A sharp pain exploded into his ankle, like two boiling hot spikes had pierced the skin. It was the shock that got him more than anything else.

"OW! What the-" He glared down, seeing a flash of black fur and sharp teeth - the source of the bite. So that's what had scared the birds. "You stupid bloody cat. Get lost!" Oh it looked like he'd momentarily lost all traces of his usual unconditional politeness.

The cat hissed and defiantly sat down in front of Pip's feet.

"Seriously, leave me alone. I'm not in the mood for anything else to have a go at me." He didn't think he could take any more abuse.

No response, just a long steady blink.

Pip felt guilty then. "Look I'm sorry for yelling at you, old chap, I'm just rather unhappy right now. Not that you care anyway, you're a cat."

It slowly got up, stretching onto its front legs and yawning. Pip hesitantly reached his hand forward, leaving it dangling there. The cat eyed it for a few moments, almost as if it was deliberating what to do. In the end it rubbed its head against Pip's hand, purring lightly. It was a low purr, a deep purr.

Pip grinned and leant forward to stroke the cat properly. It seemed to acknowledge the discomfort this would put the blond boy in, for it jumped up next to him on the bench, lying down beside him. Pip tickled the cat's warm stomach.

"You can keep me company for a bit if you really want to. You'd be the only one that wants to."

He closed his eyes, attempting to suppress the tears. Feeling the warm presence of the cat next to him was enough to do this. The scenario felt strangely familiar.

"Nobody cares about me. Even my family don't know what to do with me; they let me walk out of the house on Christmas Eve for God's sake. The people at school are really mean. They've found me annoying, since I came to this country. They don't even need a reason for it." Memories of being called names, of being spat on and worse flooded Pip's mind.

The cat meowed in protest, rubbing against Pip's arm.

Pip stroked the soft fur, staring off into the distance. "Okay, I'm not being honest. There is someone who seems to care."

The cat purred contently.

"Would you like to hear about him?" asked Pip, turning towards his new companion.

The cat nodded, causing Pip to almost have a heart attack. He regarded it as a coincidence and carried on.

"His name is Damien. He's the son of Satan. He's the only one actually nice to me... how ridiculous is that?" Pip scoffed, a frown appearing on his face. "The one whose job is to be cruel, to torment people, is the only one who doesn't do it."

He continued stroking the cat, alternating between scratching behind the ear and feeling the smooth fur. It was addictive to stroke. It was as if the cat had some weird pull on him.

"Damien is a wonderful guy, and not just in the looks department, which he excels in by the way." Pip smiled. Damien was indeed heart-stopping gorgeous. He had incredible features, they created the perfect balance on his face, his jaw was so strong, his hair so thick and dark, his skin so pale. His eyes were so vividly red. "One look at him and I was hooked. Looking into those eyes, you just don't stand a chance." He cruelly laughed at something then, even though he knew he shouldn't. "A lot of people didn't stand a chance after they looked into those eyes." He felt he had to explain himself. "But they were bad people."

The cat was sitting very still beside him, its eyes closed. All that moved was its tail, which brushed up and down Pip's side.

"I don't suppose you've ever had the feeling that someone was protecting you, who really shouldn't be protecting you? That's what it feels like for me. I trust Damien so much, when he's theoretically an evil demon." Pip lowered his voice and whispered. "I don't think he is though, evil that is; I know he's a demon... a very sexy demon." Pip gazed up at the trees above his head, stretching up higher than he could see in the dim light. He closed his eyes and allowed the slow falling snow to land on his face.

"I love him. I don't even care that I shouldn't. I think he loves me too. Well, the marks on my neck and chest seem to suggest he loves my body anyway. But I don't know. He's treats me differently than he treats anyone else, it's like he sees something in me that he doesn't see in them. I don't know what it is, cat, but I'm glad it's there."

The cat reached out a paw and placed it on Pip's knee, purring again, softly.

"I wish I could spend Christmas with him, but he doesn't really celebrate Christmas... and by that I mean he's opposed to it in every way. Why would he want to spend a day rejoicing about the birth of Christ after all? He wouldn't. I know lots of non-religious folks still celebrate it, but it's a tall order for Damien."

Pip felt strangely better now that he'd talked about the demon that ruled over his heart.

"What are you doing for Christmas? Chasing mice I should expect. A dead mouse - such a lovely present for your owners, all wrapped up in its own fur and entrails."

The cat meowed.

"You do have owners don't you?" He trailed his eyes over the cat's neck. "Of course you do, I can see your collar."

Pip sighed again. "I should probably go home now. My parents will be worried. It is Christmas Eve after all, and they are so good to me. I've been a bit unfair."

The black cat yowled loudly in protest and jumped onto Pip's knee, sinking its claws gently into his trousers.

Pip laughed gently and picked up the cat, raising it to eye level. He stared into the unblinking... _red_ eyes; they glowed in the moonlight, piercing into his soul. Pip's face went pale as he inspected the eyes more closely. He rested the cat on one of his arms and lightly twisted the collar, with shaking hands, to read the name tag. It simply read _'666.'_ He blushed and took the cat in both hands again, narrowing his bright blue eyes. _What a devious bastard._

He gazed into the cat's eyes again. "Your red eyes really are intense. Maybe we could find you a green collar. Then you'll look like Christmas." He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Alternately I could find you a green _t-shirt_ and stop pretending that I don't know exactly who you are."

_"I doubt your clothes would fit me." _

Pip jumped and almost dropped the cat. He glared at it, through a mixture of embarrassment and shock. "Don't do that whole telepathic thing with me. You know I don't like it."

_"I'm sorry, Pip, but how else am I supposed to communicate?" _

"Well, Damien, you could possibly turn back into the more human form you possess... or here's a thought: come to me in that form to begin with!"

_"That wouldn't have been any fun."_

Pip pouted. "Well you've had your fun now."

_"I'm not wearing any clothes."_

"Well, let's get that green t-shirt shall we?"

_"What do you mean?"_

Pip sighed. "Do you want to come back to mine or not?"

_"I'd love that more than anything."_

"So would I, now please do be quiet."

He blinked innocently, licking Pip's nose just softly enough that he could get away with it.

Pip wrinkled his nose and smiled. "That's better."

It had gone from being a horrible Christmas for the British boy, to the best Christmas, in less than an hour. He hugged the cat close as he carried him back to his house. All the while he was thinking: what could be better than Christmas with the anti-Christ?

He was so going to hell for this.

But seeing the angelic blond boy, stretched out on the rug in front of the roaring fire in his living room, a soft cat curled up on the comfort of his chest, how could anyone think of hell? Pip's parents were relieved when he had arrived home. They'd even listened to his pleas to keep the cat, at least over the Christmas period.

Pip had taken off Damien's collar before he got to the house. He held up the cat to his parents. "I found him all alone by Stark's Pond. I don't think he has a family. He was all cold and lonely."

His mom had been reluctant but after looking into Damien's entrancing eyes, suddenly the answer was a very definitive yes. Pip smirked; Damien's powers could come in useful. How would his mom have reacted if she'd know she'd just agreed to let the son of Satan into her house for Christmas?

Badly, Pip presumed.

He went up to bed around half eleven. He took the cat with him. His mum found a big cushion for it to sleep on and even supplied a bowl of water; she was quickly falling for its 'cute' charms.

Damien transformed back into his normal form then. Pip found a pair of boxers that just about fit him, although it was a tight squeeze. It didn't really matter though. They both came to the conclusion that Damien wouldn't have them on for very long.

Pip collapsed next to Damien onto his bed, curling up in the warm arms. "You're going to have to stay a cat when we're in company. My parents don't like me being with you at the best of times."

"That's fine by me. I'm finding being a cat quite fun actually, especially when you hug me to your chest."

"I love doing that. You're like a fluffy hot water bottle."

"Well I can honestly say I never thought I'd be called that."

"Do you like it?"

"I don't really know." Damien thought hard for a few moments, and then slowly smiled, if it was possible, an even warmer than usual feeling spread into his chest. "Yes I do. It makes me feel useful."

Pip delicately kissed Damien's neck and closed his eyes. "You know you're useful. You know you're the one that keeps me safe."

"Yes. And I will protect you forever, Pip, because I love you."

It was the best Christmas present the British boy could ever receive. "I love you too."

"And even though he doesn't celebrate Christmas, _your_ sexy demon is going to spend it with you."

Pip trailed his finger down Damien's chest. "I'm so lucky. He's a_ very_ sexy demon."

Damien let out a low chuckle and tangled his fingers into Pip's hair, gently pulling his head close. "So I've heard."

Let the Christmas magic begin.

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_A/N: Merry Christmas Dip fans! (Well, Merry 23__rd __of December)._

_Please review... it can be my Christmas present. :3_


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